


Day 4 - Seduction

by marvel_and_mischief



Series: December Writing Challenge [4]
Category: Pedro Pascal - Fandom, Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins)
Genre: F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Smut, sex on a desk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27876742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_and_mischief/pseuds/marvel_and_mischief
Summary: Maxwell's method of seduction is different from anyone else's.
Relationships: Maxwell Lord/Reader, Maxwell Lord/You
Series: December Writing Challenge [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035513
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Day 4 - Seduction

His bejewelled fingers were digging bruises into your shoulder, but as soon as he realised his rings were leaving marks he moved his hand to hold onto the flesh of your waist where it would hurt less. His thrusts slowed down from a frantic fucking to grinding more carefully, aware the hard wood of the desk often left bruises on your hips if he was too rough. 

He didn’t usually care, if he was being honest. He had fucked countless women on this desk over the years, but you had stirred something different inside of him over recent weeks. 

You had begun your job as his secretary six months ago. You knew of the rumours, Maxwell Lord was a brutal businessman, who never took ‘no’ for an answer in any part of his personal or professional life. You had been told as much at the interview stage that what Mr Lord wants, he gets, and if you weren’t comfortable with that it was best to find a job elsewhere. You were more than happy with serving the businessman in any way you could. 

You saw through the hard exterior to the softness within almost immediately. You had seen the forlorn looks at perfectly set up magazine advertisements of couples in love. You had caught him more than once staring at the photo of his son he kept on his desk and knew that everything he did was for him. 

He wasn’t as selfish as everybody believed either. Maxwell left you gifts sometimes; a pair of designer shoes ( _“you need shoes that shows off your ass”_ ), diamond earrings ( _“you must look good in my company”_ ), a new purse ( _“your current purse is too small for the amount of work you should be taking home”_ ). But you knew they were given to you out of more than necessity. 

Even now as he thrust deep and hard into you, you felt the neediness in his actions. How he kneaded handfuls of skin just above your hips, or how the other hand was pulling you away from the desk to keep you from bruising. His affection was subtle, and you wondered how many other secretaries he had done this with but they never cared to notice those little things. 

Maxwell pulled you upright, your back flush with his shirt covered chest, and reached around under the front of your skirt to rub circles into your clit. 

It didn’t take long for you to reach your high, clamping down on his cock that was still thrusting in and out of you as you shuddered through your orgasm. His hips stuttered and then he was finishing inside of you, as he always did. You shivered at the feeling of his warm seed flooding deep within you, sighing when he pulled out. 

Maxwell tucked himself into his briefs and zipped up his trousers, taking a seat at his desk chair and reaching over to the decanter sitting on the cabinet behind him. 

“Do you want one?” He asked nonchalantly. It took you a moment to realise what he was asking, still holding onto the desk as you tried to calm your breathing. You were always in awe of how little he was affected after sex. 

You were also confused because he never spoke after sex. Merely politely waited for you to get yourself in order and leave before going back to work. 

“Erm,” you pulled your underwear up from around your ankles and straightened your skirt, going in search of the shirt that had been thrown across the room, “you mean a whiskey?”

“Yes,” he replied, short and sharp as you were accustomed to.

“Sure, thank you,” you replied, pulling on your frilly shirt and taking a seat across from him. He poured a drink and carefully slid it towards you. Your hand was shaking, still coming down, but you were also nervous. This wasn’t normal behaviour. Was that a goodbye fuck? Was he about to fire you? Had you overthought the gifts, the gentle touches? You were convinced now you were just another secretary and he was bored now he had gotten everything out of you that he wanted.

You gulped down your drink in two swigs and braced yourself for the inevitable.

“I have come to appreciate your company these past six months,” he began, taking a particular interest in the drink he was swirling around in his crystal glass, “and, well here is the thing-“

“I can have my things packed within the hour Mr Lord,” you said with as much dignity as you could. But the reality was you had grown to _like_ Maxwell. You were comfortable with his brash personality and you _really_ liked the way he fucked you. You would miss both.

Maxwell’s eyes widened, frustration building in his chest at the way he was dealing with this. He was ruthless in the face of balding men in boardrooms, he had fired old women who had cried and begged in this very room, but he couldn’t ask you to spend Christmas with him? He had had enough.

He slammed his glass down and strode over to your side of the desk, hands coming to rest on the arms of your chair. You didn’t flinch, only looked up at him, mouth parted, doe eyes intrigued at what was happening. He thought you looked perfectly innocent, despite what he knew those lips could do.

“I want you,” he growled, lips so close to yours that you could feel his breath hit you, “I want to wake up with you in the bed I’ll fuck you in. I want to show you off on my arm at galas, I want everyone to know you’re mine and no one else’s,” Maxwell was breathing heavily, partly nerves, party getting turned on again. 

You sat frozen in shock and delight. Most men had seduced you with chocolates or flowers, but Maxwell wasn’t most men. And that’s why he was perfect for you.

“I want that too,” you admitted, your chest heaving up and down catching Maxwell’s eye.

“Will you spend the holidays with me?” He asked, a little less confidently but he needn’t have worried when you nodded enthusiastically, smile pulled into a wide grin.

Satisfied with your response Maxwell pulled you out of the chair and sat you atop his desk, kissing you fiercely and preparing for round two.


End file.
